Heroes United
by turbomagnus
Summary: The greatest heroes and detectives of the 'pulp'-era - The Shadow, The Phantom, Dick Tracy and more - come together, uniting each of their individual talents and abilities into one force against evil.
1. Shadows In The City

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 23 February.

I like old 'pulp'-era heroes (or even those simply styled as though from that era), costumed heroes like The Shadow and The Phantom, classic detectives like Dick Tracy and Nero Wolfe, I gladly admit it. So it is without hesitation that I started wondering what would happen if - since they're all in a roughly 1930's era timeframe, what would happen if their paths began to cross...

Disclaimer: "The Shadow" belongs to Street and Smith Publications and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.

-o0O0o-

"Heroes United"

'Shadows in The City'

By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

The iris of the one-way 'picture by radio' reciever opened and the man sitting in front of it spoke in a low, gravelly voice.

"Report."

Burbank's image looked at The Shadow from the transmitting end of the connection, "Agent in Midtown Precinct reports incident at Museum of Natural History. Possible theft and kidnapping. Agent suggests inquiry and advises caution; Police Commissioner appears involved."

The Shadow frowned even though Burbank couldn't see it; Wainwright Barth's replacement as Police Commissioner had been detrimental to The Shadow's operations, not just by losing the line of information that came from Barth being the uncle of Lamont Cranston, but by virtue of the fact that his replacement - a man named Jack Farley - was deep in the pockets of some of New York's less respectable citizens.

"Understood. Have agents find out what and whom was taken, report back as soon as possible," The Shadow answered before abruptly ending the connection and leaning back in his chair.

'This is troubling,' he thought to himself, 'Whoever is behind this acted in broad daylight, obviously thinking they had the power - money or connections - to escape justice for their actions... I intend to prove them wrong, remind them that the weed of crime bares bitter fruit.

-o0o-

It was later that day and The Shadow was again in his Sanctum in communication with Burbank, "Report."

"Agent in Metropolitan Library reports additional information on disappearance of Dr. Fleming, head of the Metropolitan Library. Dr. Fleming last known to be meeting with Xander Drax," Burbank informed his superior.

"Xander Drax," The Shadow thought for a moment, "Owner of Drax Industries, connections with Zaphro crime family."

"Yes," Burbank answered simply.

"Interesting."

"Additional on incident at Museum of Natural History; possible connection with disappearance of Dr. Fleming, Drax involved in theft of jade skull from Crusades exhibit, seen leaving Museum with Charlie Zaphro and associates. Also present were Diana Palmer, niece of _Tribune_ editor David Palmer, and unknown male. Agent in area at time reports Palmer and unknown male taken from Museum at gunpoint."

"Taken where?" The Shadow demanded.

"Drax Industries building, downtown Manhattan," Burbank answered, "Further information unavailable, no agents currently in Drax organisation."

"What about the Zaphros?"

"Agents in Zaphro crime family report death of Raymond Zaphro, Charlie Zaphro now in control of family, working with Drax. Agents report additional Drax/Zaphro connection with organization known as 'Sengh Brotherhood'. Exact nature of association unknown, Agents attempting to learn."

The Shadow glowered, having heard of the Sengh Brotherhood; a four-hundred year old collection of cutthroats, thieves, murders and pirates that survived by the simple fact of their open recruitment policies for lay members who might one day earn the spiderweb tattoo that marked them as full 'brothers' and the fact that despite the loss of numerous operations at the hands of the Bengalla Jungle Patrol, The Shadow's own network of agents and other forces of order over the years, the Brotherhood's primary headquarters had somehow managed to remain hidden for the entirety of it's four-hundred year existance.

"No," The Shadow commanded, "Have the agents continue survelliance of Drax, Zaphro and Commissioner Farley, but order them to keep away from the Sengh Brotherhood. Until we know why Drax is interested in the Brotherhood, there's too great a risk to the agents. Especially with the current police situation."

-o0o-

That night, the 'current police situation' reared its head in a most unwelcome manner, leading The Shadow back to The Sanctum once more.

"Report," if the tone of The Shadow's voice was extra harsh, Burbank didn't notice or said nothing.

"Agent in Midtown Precinct reports police on look-out for madman, armed and extremely dangerous. Police have been ordered to shoot on sight. Agent recommends exercising caution in any activites tonight," Burbank said in as dry a tone as though he were reading the day's weather report from the _Classic_ or _Tribune_.

"Description?"

"Police alert states possible costume, skin-tight purple, with cowl and mask," Burbank answered.

"Keep me informed," The Shadow instructed before turning off the reciever and watching as the iris closed.

-o0O0o-

Author's Note: I'm actually looking for two more characters that could have been active in the 1930's, to be honest. I've got The Shadow, The Phantom, Dick Tracy, Nero Wolfe and Archie Goodwin, and possibly a successor to Zorro, but that still leaves me two short of the seven I want to have. Anyone have any suggestions?


	2. Phantoms In The Jungle

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 24 February.

I like old 'pulp'-era heroes (or even those simply styled as though from that era), costumed heroes like The Shadow and The Phantom, classic detectives like Dick Tracy and Nero Wolfe, I gladly admit it. So it is without hesitation that I started wondering what would happen if - since they're all in a roughly 1930's era timeframe, what would happen if their paths began to cross...

Disclaimer(s):  
"The Shadow" belongs to Street and Smith Publications and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.  
"The Phantom" was created by Lee Falk and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit, I believe current ownership rights rest with King Features Syndicate, but I'm not sure.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Heroes United"  
'Phantoms in the Jungle'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

"I will devote my life to the destruction of piracy, greed, cruelty, and injustice, and my sons and their sons shall follow me." - The Phantom.

-o0o-

* * *

"Long day?"

Captain Phillip Horton, public commander of the Bangallan Jungle Patrol turned around and narrowed his eyes at the man who had just entered his office-slash-quarters in the Jungle Patrol's headquarters - his factual superior and the actual commander of the Jungle Patrol, "Can't you ever use the door?"

"I like the window better," The Phantom answered, playing his part in the old exchange between the two men.

Horton shook his head, "Yes, it's been a blasted long day - word's gotten out among the _bonos_ about your little escapade in the Devil's Triangle and right now Zavia isn't the better for it. Other types are trying to take control of the town and the Sengh Brotherhood there are trying equally hard to keep their power and control, I've had to pull all Patrols back away from the jungle around the town for their own safety."

"That's strange," The Phantom frowned.

"Blasted nuisance is what it is," Horton corrected, "If the other criminal types win this little struggle, we'll have to send the Patrol in to clean things up and adjust patrol routes to include Zavia; the Brotherhood wins, on the other hand, they'll probably try using the town to rebuild their numbers, regroup and reorganise, maybe even use it as their new headquarters if they think they can get away with it."

"No, I know about the trouble in Zavia and the possible outcomes, I'm keeping an eye on it," The Phantom answered, "I mean its strange that you said there should be no members of the Jungle Patrol anywhere near Zavia. Only tonight I saw one of the Jungle Patrol's men on the outskirts of Zavia meeting with someone. I thought it might be an informer for you, but if you've said no one's to go near Zavia for the time being, that means it can't be."

Horton growled softly at the thought that one of his men might be a traitor - though he knew that seven generations ago, The Phantom's place as commander of the Jungle Patrol had become a secret because of a traitor who caused the death of the Fourteenth Phantom, "Do you have any idea who it was?"

"The Patrolman was one of the new recruits - I think his name was Baker," The Phantom replied, "I can give you a description of the _bono._"

Horton crossed the room and opened a filing cabinet behind his desk, "Go on."

"Medium-height and build, European-descent, dark hair, patch over his left eye, full beard," The Phantom listed off as Horton began flipping through the files the Jungle Patrol had on _bonos_ in Zavia, a set of extremely incomplete files, unfortunately, "The most interesting thing was that he carried a sword, even in this day and age; rapier, I think."

"I recognise the description, especially that sword; that's one Malcom Arne," Horton nodded, pulling out a file and closing the cabinet before tossing it onto his desk, "He's a known lay member of the Brotherhood, appearantly likes to play up the old 'pirate' image."

"He's also a member of something else, I think," The Phantom brought up, causing Horton to look at him and frown.

"Why do you think that?"

"They both wore the same kind of ring; silver with a _girasol_," The Phantom explained, "And the way they greeted each other..."

"Fire opal," Horton nodded, "What kind of greeting?"

"They talked about the weather."

Rolling his eyes, Horton retorted, "Lots of people talk about the weather, Phantom."

"Baker said 'but the ice is slippery'," The Phantom countered, "How often do you see ice in the jungles of Bangalla, Captain?"

"In this heat?" Horton scoffed, "The only ice I've ever seen is what comes in by ships for freezers. I'll have someone bring me Baker for some answers as soon as you leave."

"No," The Phantom countermanded, "No, don't do that. Watch him, it would help if we know if there's any other members of this fire opal group in Bangalla before we do anything. It wouldn't help if Baker's a traitor and we expose him only for others to escape because of it."

"If you say so, Phantom," Horton shook his head, "I can't say I agree, but you are the one in charge."

Footsteps on the porch drew both men's attention and caused them to move in seperate directions - The Phantom towards the window he had entered by and Horton towards the door. Before Horton could reach it, the door began to open.

"Captain Horton, sir," the person on the other side started only for Horton to interrupt.

"Blast it all, Weeks, haven't you ever heard of knocking?" Horton chastised Weeks, newly promoted to Sergeant to replace former-Sergeant Cummings who had found himself demoted to Corporal for his part in the incident with the grave robbers that had led into The Phantom's recent adventure with the Skulls of Touganda.

"My apologies, Captain," Weeks answered, quickly trying to glance behind his commanding officer to see what he could see before focusing on the man in front of him, "But you asked to be informed of any communications from the _Tribune _newspaper offices in New York - a telegram just arrived, sir."

"Well, then," Horton snapped, "Hand it over and get on with it, Sergeant."

Weeks handed over the piece of paper and turned to walk off the porch and down the steps, trying not to shake his head at the strange behavior that the Captain had shown. Then he stopped and frowned, for a moment he thought he had seen, out of the corner of his eye, movement in the shadows like a man going over the wall surrounding the Jungle Patrol headquarters.

Finally, he just shook his head and continued on his way, thinking to himself, 'Blasted jungle plays tricks on a man's mind."


	3. Hacking Away

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... This is The 365 Project, 24 February.

I like old 'pulp'-era heroes (or even those simply styled as though from that era), costumed heroes like The Shadow and The Phantom, classic detectives like Dick Tracy and Nero Wolfe, I gladly admit it. So it is without hesitation that I started wondering what would happen if - since they're all in a roughly 1930's era timeframe, what would happen if their paths began to cross...

Disclaimer(s):  
"The Shadow" belongs to Street and Smith Publications and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.  
"The Phantom" was created by Lee Falk and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit, I believe current ownership rights rest with King Features Syndicate, but I'm not sure.

-o0O0o-

"Heroes United"  
'Hacking Away'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

"Never plot in the backseat of a cab; you never know who the cabbie really works for." - Magnus' Laws.

-o0o-

Midtown, Manhattan Island,  
New York City,  
United States of America.

Two cabs were parked in front of one of the city's hotels, their respective drivers standing between them talking in the cool morning air.

"You hungry?" One of them finally asked, adding, "I'm buying."

The second looked at him and raised an eyebrow, "You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," Al Falkner rolled his eyes, "What's the world coming to when a guy can't even foot the bill for a friend once in a while?"

"Okay, okay," the other cabbie, a man named Moe Shrevenitz, grinned, "Don't go gettin' your hackles all up. What happened, somebody tell you to keep the change?"

"Sorta," Al shrugged, "Big fair the other day, out-of-towner, paid big money for the whole day. I figure, what the hey, you only live once."

"Pay was that good, huh?"

"Like you have room to talk, Shrevvie," Al shot back, "Surprised you haven't just quit hacking and gone to work for that Cranston guy full-time with the way you drive for him."

"Eh, Cranston pays well," Moe countered, "But it's not as regular as you think. Besides, I like hacking, beats being around the house with Shirl yakking in my ear all the time."

Moe wouldn't say it because Al wasn't an Agent, but being a cabbie had the added benefits of allowing him to go almost anywhere in New York and people wouldn't notice just another cab on the street along with the fact that people talked in the back seat and sometimes what they were saying was worth hearing and passing on.

"Sure, Moe," Al clicked his tongue, "Whatever you say."

"Yeah, how about sandwiches, then?" Moe replied, "There's a new deli open in Brooklyn, supposed to have good sandwiches. Been wanting to try it out anyways."

"Sandwiches?" Al looked at him in disbelief, "I'm payin' and you could get steak or something and you want sandwiches?"

"Hey, just 'cause I drive a rich guy around don't mean I've got his tastes," Moe retorted, "I'm just a simple man with simple tastes and right now I'm wanting to taste some cold cuts and cheese. So, you payin' or just talkin', Al?"

"I'm payin', I'm payin'," Al answered as he walked around to the door of his cab, shaking his head, "Sandwiches..."


	4. Digging Deeper

Author's Note: The 365 Project is an experimental project to write and post at least one short every day for the next year, not including my semi-regular bi-weekly updates. Whether or not that goal can be reached, we'll see... Two months down and ten to go, this is the final entry for February, this is The 365 Project, 28 February.

I like old 'pulp'-era heroes (or even those simply styled as though from that era), costumed heroes like The Shadow and The Phantom, classic detectives like Dick Tracy and Nero Wolfe, I gladly admit it. So it is without hesitation that I started wondering what would happen if - since they're all in a roughly 1930's era timeframe, what would happen if their paths began to cross...

Disclaimer(s):  
"The Shadow" belongs to Street and Smith Publications and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit.  
"The Phantom" was created by Lee Falk and is used for entertainment purposes without permission or intent to profit, I believe current ownership rights rest with King Features Syndicate, but I'm not sure.

* * *

-o0O0o-

"Heroes United"  
'Digging Deeper'  
By J.T. Magnus, 'Turbo'

-o0O0o-

* * *

The Skull Cave,  
Bangalla

For four hundred years, The Phantom had made his home in the Skull Cave, though only a few knew where it was and even fewer knew that The Phantom was many men, each the son of The Phantom before and each would be father to The Phantom who would follow. The man who now bore the name and title was the Twenty-First Phantom to do so. In one of the deepest parts of the Skull Cave, a chamber whose walls were lined with books, some centuries old, that had been collected from all over the world and - more importantly - the oversized leather-bound journals that documented The Phantom's legacy, added to not only by the Twenty-First Phantom, but all those who had gone before. It was from these journals that the room took its name; the Chronicle Chamber. The Chronicle laying open on the desk before him was one of the newest, less than a decade old, the last addition made by the Twentieth Phantom before his death at the hands of the Sengh Brotherhood six years before. For twenty generations, The Phantom had used ancient Touganda tribal methods of meditation to allow himself to focus and recieve guidance from the spirits in the world around him, but at the moment, the man known also as Kit Walker was too frustrated to meditate on the information he was looking for.

"Something wrong, Ghost-Who-Walks?" Guran, the aged Bangallan native whose family had served The Phantom for centuries asked.

"It's these _girasol _rings that Captain Horton told me about, Guran," Kit answered, "I've been looking through the Chronicles for information and all I can find is something my father wrote a few years before..."

"Before you returned from America," Guran supplied, allowing Kit to avoid reference to his father's death.

"Yes, before I came back from America," Kit agreed, "According to what he wrote; they started appearing suddenly, never many, never obvious, but always there. But he was never able to find out anything about them. Every time he tried, they seemed to disappear... just like now."

"Like a shadow," Guran observed.

Kit looked up at his friend, assistant and mentor, "What was that?"

"I said the information you seek is elusive, like you were chasing a shadow," Guran answered.

Frowning, Kit quickly flipped to the back of the Chronicle journal, to one of the first entries he had made after his return from America upon his father's death six years ago, and began to run his finger down the page.

"Here it is," Kit announced, "Before I returned to Bangalla to become The Phantom, there were rumors in New York, a dark figure terrorising criminals, always unseen."

"And so?" Guran asked.

"The timing fits, Guran," Kit looked up and told him, "According to what my father wrote, these _girasol_ rings began to appear about the same time this person appeared in New York. There may be a connection there."

"Hm," Guran made a sound of acknowledgement, "I will pack your belongings for your trip, Ghost-Who-Walks, so that you may arrange tickets for the Clipper."

Kit managed a smile, "You know me too well, Guran."

* * *

-o0o-

Roughly the same time...  
New York City,  
United States of America

Burbank looked up from one of his multitude of maps at the sound of a buzzing coming from the two-way radio transciever that was part of his communications apparatus. Reaching out with a hand, the third finger of which bore a silver ring with a red stone, the former-accountant pressed a button which brought to life not only the transciever's microphone, but also the one-way 'picture over radio' transmitter that allowed the man at the other end of the communication to see Burbank and anything the communications man needed to show his boss.

"Burbank," he answered the signal with his typical economy of words, never two when one would do.

There were no greetings or pleasantries from the man on the other end of the signal, the one who Burbank couldn't see but that saw him, "Instruct Agents necessary to gather information on island of Bangalla, especially rumors and legends surrounding purple man seen recently in New York in relation to activites of Xander Drax."

"Yes, sir," Burbank answered, unphased by the sudden disconnection without comment when the person on the other end of the radio cut the signal. Instead, he put aside the map he was looking at and took out one of another part of the world, including the island of Bangalla, marked with pencil dots and alphanumeric notations of which only he knew the meanings, and began to set in motion the farthest-reaching arms of the network of Agents all of whom were answerable ultimately to the man known only as The Shadow.


End file.
